Pondering Destiny
by infectedmind
Summary: “Mm,” Rory lamented as Tristan’s mouth explored every bit of newly exposed skin across her chest'....Rory has Dane, but that's definitely not going to get into Tristan's way...RT or ROriginal Character...Future Fic
1. Promotions and Surprise Parties

                                                Chapter One:  Promotions and Surprise Parties

**Chapter Summary: **Rory wakes up late, and almost misses an important meeting, but Dane delays their mutual boss long enough for her to make the meeting and she gets promoted.  On the ride to a celebratory dinner at Rory's, she invites him to spend Christmas in Stars Hollow.  Upon going home, she receives a phone call from Emily Gilmore, who is inviting Rory to her own surprise twenty-third birthday party.  Shortly after the call, she receives one from Lorelai, who invites Rory to the after-party for Emily's and reminds her to bring Dane to Stars Hollow for Christmas and Christmas dinner with the parents.

**A/N: **I'm not sure when Rory's real birthday is, so lets assume/pretend it is on December 21.  There's no Tristan/Rory in here, as they don't meet until the next chapter.  Yeah, it gets going a little slowly.  Be nice!

            One would think that with time, Rory Gilmore would get accustomed to waking up early.  God knows, she had done it almost daily with little exception for the past four or five years.  And yet, she still could not be roused without being shaken, slapped, screamed at, or dumped water on, and even if she did wake, it was almost guaranteed that she would let loose a string of expletives.  She shouldn't have been surprised, though.  Her mother was crawling towards her forties and still didn't rise without smacking the Snooze button several times.  It of course helped to have one of those infuriatingly loud alarms that would stop ringing only to begin again five minutes later.

            This particular morning, however, it was not the alarm clock that caused Rory to curse all living things, but rather the jarring sound of a telephone call.  Dane had fiddled with it one morning and it now did not ring, but rather played Jingle Bells until someone picked it up and since Rory did not have an answering machine, there was no end in sight to the Christmas tune torture.  Thus, her only option was to hope that the poor fool on the other end of the line would forget an important task and rush off to complete it.  But this person was obviously lacking something to do.  It was probably a telemarketer. 

            Rory groaned and sat up, wincing at the unexpected light.  She blinked and rubbed her eyes until she no longer saw dark spots everywhere.  It was unusually bright for six o'clock in the morning.  Letting her gaze lazily stray to the clock, she realized that the reason it was so bright was that it was nearly eight-thirty.  She groaned again, the second time in less than a minute.  Today was already making itself out to be awful.  Trying to jerk awake, she pulled the comforter off of herself, and lunged for the phone.

            "Mmm."

            "Hello, Rory?" A low voice asked.

            "Mmhmm?"

            "Rory?"

            "Yes?" she mumbled, recognizing the voice. "What's up, Dane?"

            "Are you awake?" he asked, somewhat urgently.

            "Yeah." 

            "Do you have any coffee in you?"  
            "Nooo.  Coffeeee," she grunted.

            "Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

            "No"

            "Well, forget it.  Just chew some gum, change in the car, and get your ass over here."  

            Dane sounded sufficiently alarmed enough to cause Rory to focus.  "What happened?"

            "Um, it's not so bad, but I know you don't want to be overlooked again- promotion time just got here a few weeks early, thanks to certain people."

            "Certain…who?"

            "Donnie resigned."

            "Donnie?  When was this? Wasn't he going to retire in a month?"  
            "Well, I guess he's going home a little early.  Fay told us- he had an argument with Ms. Conners last night.  Big argument.  By five o' clock this morning she had the papers on her desk."

            "Wow. We should go talk to him."

            "Ms. Conners?"

            "No, 'him'.  Donnie."

            "Okay, but we're having a staff meeting today.  You wanna' show up or should I make your excuses?"

            "Are you kidding me? I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

            Even across the phone line, she could feel his grin.  "Thought so. You have the Decarnt story done?"

            "No, I was going to wake up early this morning and finish it up.  Most of the story's already done, just have to look it over."

            "Oh, well.  Bring yourself.  I'll get you some coffee. Just get over here.  The meeting starts in ten minutes and I'll attempt to delay Ms. Conners, but it'll scar me.  You owe me."

            "I promise I'll repay the debt in full," Rory declared.

            "I'll hold you to that," he responded huskily and hung up.

            Ten minutes later, Rory was outside in the frosted Boston winter.  Shivering, she pulled the thin material of her coat tighter around herself and began to run towards her car, which was parked at the end of the apartment complex.  Unlocking it as she ran, she opened the door, and slid in.  After turning the heat on full blast, she drove the two miles to the Globe building and went around to the parking lot.  Unfortunately, there were no parking spots close to the door, so she had to park way in the back and walk in the below zero weather.  

            "Dammit, dammit, dammit…" she chanted to herself as she entered the building, knowing that she was late to the meeting.  She pulled off her coat and ran to the elevators at the same time, pounding on the up button as if that would make the elevator come down faster.  Knowing that it would probably end up not coming for a while, she opted for the stairs, and when she was only a few steps up, she heard the 'ding' of the elevator door as it opened.  

            "Dammit…" By the time she was upstairs, and had discarded her coat on her desk, the meeting was well under way.  She realized that going in now would only be to her disadvantage and make her look bad.  Sighing, Rory decided that she'd better go home and call in sick, pleading a horrible flu.  Taking one more look through the window to see if Dane was inside, she noticed that there were a few seats empty- Dane's, Ms. Conners, and some others, but Ms. Conners' seat was the one that mattered.  She had made it!  With a silent thank-you, she walked composedly into the door, and took her seat.  Perhaps her day was looking up after all.

            A mere five seconds later, the door opened to let in Dane, who was carrying a cup of coffee in his hand, with Ms. Conners following closely behind.

            "I apologize for my lateness.  Now, let's get started.  As you all know, our dear friend and colleague, Donnie Jenkins has retired…"

            Dane handed her the coffee and slid into the seat next to Rory.  Shooting him a grateful look, she sipped the warm liquid, letting it seep into her and warm her bones before she concentrated on what Ms. Conners was saying.

*************************************************

            "We should celebrate," Dane said, one arm casually thrown around Rory's shoulders.

            "Are you kidding me?  It's only ten, and I have so much work to do."

            "You just got a promotion," he incredulously responded.

            "All the more reason to get back to work." Rory obstinately declared.

            "My very own workaholic," he teased, chucking her under the chin.

            "Hey!"

            "What?" Dane innocently asked. "Please, please, please!  Let's celebrate.  Don't you owe me something for delaying Ms. Conners?"

            "What did you do anyways?"

            "Why?  Jealous?" 

            "No, glad to have someone take you off my hands."

            "C'mon…" he whined, pouting.

            "Not if you ask that way.  Besides, I already had breakfast, it's too early for lunch, and dinner is hours away."

            "But it's brunch time!"

            Rory rolled her eyes.  "Not now.  Maybe we can have dinner later…you know, when work is over."

            "Please…?"  Looking at her set face, he asked, "Maybe one kiss?"

            Rory smiled, and placed her hands on his shoulders as bent down and kissed her.  At first, it was a light kiss, a chaste close-mouthed one, but very quickly became more.  Dane's strong arms went around her waist and pulled her closer as her arms moved around his neck and played with the hair at its nape.  Rory allowed herself to get lost in it, the liquid heat flowing through her veins as she pressed herself against him.  His tongue traced her lips before she allowed him entrance, and she emitted a moan as Dane deepened the kiss.  Just as she was going to discard all plans of staying at work for any longer, he pulled away, leaving both of them breathing heavily.  

            She moaned in protest, and he smiled briefly, although the desire was darkening his already almost black eyes.  "Just one kiss," he reminded her, as the elevator dinged open.

            "You, sir, are a beast," she said ruefully, straightening her mussed hair, and walked back to her desk to get some work done.

            By the time she had finished up the article on Roger Decarnt, a dedicated pro-choice politician who was commenting on the strict abortion policy just passed by Congress, she was exhausted, and very willing to go home and see the insides of her eyelids.  It was five o' clock and she had spent most of the time after Dane left packing up her things and moving them to her office.  Her office!  It had such a wonderful ring to it.  As soon as she got home, she would have to call her mother and tell her.

            Packing up her stuff into her backpack, she made sure that nobody was still around the office and gave into her urge to skip around like a little girl.  Suddenly a hand encircled her wrist and she was _yanked_ into an empty office.  Dane's empty office.  

            "I always collect on debts owed," muttered a low, husky voice in Rory's ear.

            "I gave you a kiss," she said, smiling up at him. 

            "A kiss…hah! I'm high maintenance."

            "I'll bet you are.  Just one more kiss, then," she said, the memory of the morning's rendezvous still sharp in her mind.  He laughed, and pressed her against the door, burying his face in her breasts.  Rory shrieked, and pushed him away.

            Dane shrugged.  "You said one kiss.  You didn't say where."

            "There might be people here."

            "Party pooper.  Fine then, let's go."

            "Okay," Rory said thankfully, but she couldn't help wondering what it would have been like…if it had been another man, he would have disregarded the words- she needed little urging.  Still, it was what she loved about Dane.  He always listened to her, even when she didn't want to be heard.

            "What do you want to eat for dinner?" Dane asked her a few minutes later, as they were walking out to their cars.  "Are you cold?" he added, as he saw her shiver.  "You need a new coat."

            "Yeah," she agreed, and let him wrap his arms around her to keep her warm.  "How about we eat at my place?"

            "Cool.  You gonna' cook?" he asked.

            "No, you are," she responded playfully.

            "Pizza, it is!  Where's your car?"

            "All the way that a' way," she said, pointing to the end of the lot.

            Dane groaned.  "Too far, come in my car."

            "Okay, but you'll have to stay over and drive me tomorrow." 

            "Why, Ms. Gilmore, is that an invitation?"

            "I suppose so," she smirked.  He held the car door open for her and then raced around to his own side.  When he turned the engine on, his 12 Stones CD started playing.  Disregarding it, he turned on the heat, and pushed two of the vents toward Rory.  

            "Snow is magical," Rory said, then listened in silence to the music. "12 Stones.  I never took you for the type?"

            "What can I say?  I'd be boring if I didn't have some twists."

            "Too late. You already are," she answered.

            "Fine, fine.  My sister thinks Paul McCoy is hot."

            "How is Lina?"

            "She's fine.  She's not going to be home for Christmas this year- she's going to Cancun with some friends."

            "On winter break?"

            "You're out of touch, Rory.  People don't party hard in spring break anymore, it's all about the getting down and dirty in the snow."

            "What about your folks?"

            "They're throwing a party for some of their friends."

            "How do they like it in Arizona?"

            "It's fine.  Helluva' dry place though."

            "So what're you doing for Christmas this year?"

            "Not much."

            "And by that you mean nothing, that you're going to watch reruns of the Simpsons in your underwear?"

            "You know me too well."

            "You want to come out to Stars Hollow with me? I can show you off to all the townspeople."

            "Sure." Dane shrugged.  "Don't have anything better to do."

            "You're going to rue your words."

            "Why so," he asked, turning to look at her.

            "You're going to be interrogated, and when you're found lacking, kicked to the curb."

            "You'll save me, though, right, Rory?"

            "Sure I will," she said, and proceeded to laugh maniacally.

            He glanced at her.  "Something tells me that these holidays are going to be my last."

            "Naw, they're all really cool.  My mom wants to meet you." Dane had come to Hartford once, but after a disastrous meeting with Richard and Emily Gilmore, had gone home without meeting Lorelai.

            "So my reputation precedes me?"

            "Don't worry, all bad."

            "Damn.  This close," he said as he pulled into her apartment complex and parked in front of her building.  They got out, and there was a comfortable sort of silence as they walked toward the building.

            "The door's stuck," she said as she attempted to unlock it.

            "It's probably just frozen or something.  Kick it."

            "Why don't you?"

            "Because…I'm weak."

            "Yes, I know that, but…I'm freezing."

            Dane rammed his shoulder into the door, wincing as they connected with a solid thump and a searing pain. Thanks to his efforts, the door did open.

            "How very Prince Charming of you," Rory teased.

            "Yes, well I'm your hero and I think you're swell."

            Rory paused for dramatic effect.  "You're my hero, Billy."

            "And I think you're swell, Sally May," he responded.

            "Ooooh, oooh, we should have a movie night tonight.  And rent that, definitely."

            "Really, I was thinking there was more fun things to be done."

            By this time, they had climbed the stairs to Rory's second-floor apartment and Rory walked inside, leaving her shoes by the door.  It was a habit of Dane's that had caught on to her- not wearing shoes in the house.  He left his boots next to hers.

            "That's where my shoes went!" he exclaimed, looking at a pair of scuffed dress shoes.  "You stole them," Dane accused Rory.

            "I did not! You left them here."

            "Sure, deny it.  But I have proof."

            "What proof do you have?"

            He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, the phone rang, sending the Jingle Bells tune into the air, and he laughed instead.

            "Saved by the Bells," she said.

            "I can't believe you haven't turned that off yet.  I programmed that during July," he said, cracking up, and throwing his coat on the couch.

            Rory shot him a glare and then picked up the phone.

            "Hello?"

            "Rory, darling, how wonderful I caught you."

            "Hello Grandma.  How have you been?"

            "Wonderful! And you?"

            "Fine.  I just got a promotion."

            "That's excellent news.  Richard, Rory got a promotion," Rory could hear Emily telling her grandfather.  "He says that's excellent news and he knew you would soon."

            "Tell Grandpa thank you."

            "I will, but that's not the reason I called."

            "What is the reason?"

            "I am throwing you a surprise birthday party, Rory!  It's going to be so exciting.  I'm inviting all the families in the area- it's going to be wonderful and grand.  There'll be a lot of people from Chilton and Harvard that you haven't seen in so long.  Those people whose families we know, of course."

            "But Grandma, it's not a surprise birthday party anymore."

            "Of course it is.  You'll come in, everyone will be hiding behind couches, they'll scream Surprise and you'll be pleasantly surprised."

            "But I know about it."

            "Well of course you know about it.  How is one supposed to throw a party when the guest of honor is unaware? I mean, you might of come in wearing some old work clothes or something of the sort.  Anyway, it's on the day of your birthday-"

            "But I was going to spend my birthday with Mom and everyone in Stars Hollow."

            "You can do that during the day.  The party starts at seven o' clock sharp, but you'll have to show up at seven-thirty.  Better make it seven-forty actually.  It's formal dress.  Don't be later.  It's at our house"

            "Okay, Grandma."

            "I knew you'd love it.  Lorelai kept insisting that it wasn't a good idea, but I knew better.  We've already sent out all the invitations. Lots of eligible bachelors," she said.

            "Grandma, I'm already seeing someone.  I told you about Dane.  Dane Herrington."

            "Is he the lanky one?"  Emily didn't quite like Dane, despite having met him only once.  She thought the boy was a sloppy dresser, and rude, and poor.  He was the first and third, but his rudeness was only a retaliation to the interrogation he received.

            Rory bit back a chuckle.  "Yes, Grandma, he's the lanky one, with dark hair and dark eyes."

            "Tell him to cut his hair, it gets in his eyes."

            "Will do."

            "And you never know Rory, maybe you'll meet someone better and change your mind about seeing Dane."

            "I highly doubt that," Rory answered.  "Thanks for the party, Grandma, but I'm very tired.  I've had a long day.  I'll talk to you next week."

            "Alright, Rory, bye.  And remember, December 21, 7:40 PM, our house."

            "Bye, Grandma," Rory said wearily, and hung up.  At Dane's questioning look, she sighed.  "My grandmother is throwing me a party.  A surprise birthday party."

            "Yeah, I heard that part."

            "Hmmph.  Eavesdropper."

            "You practically shouted it in my ear.  God, Rory, you're so loud," Dane teased.

            "God, Dane, you're so weird."

            "I learn from the best.  Now what were you saying about me and my dark hair and eyes?"

            "My grandmother thinks I should leave you and go for a rich not-rude man."

            "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not rude.  I'm a brooding artist."

            "Yeah, yeah, make your excuses."

            "Fine, then, I will!" he said in mock anger.

            "Okay, order some pizza.  I'm going to change."

            "Alright.  Pizza Hut?"

            "Blech.  Little Caesar's.  Lots of breadsticks too.  And get some movies."

            "Someone enjoys control a little too much."

            "If I don't hold you on a tight rein, you'll misbehave."

            "Fine, I'm going, I'm going."

            "Thank you.  Oh, and by the way, you're coming to my surprise birthday party to ward off the bad scary rich men."

            "Nooo.  Well, at least I can play the jealous, intimidating boyfriend."

            "Intimidating?"

            "Okay, jealous.  Wait, I can intimidate people that are shorter than me.  It's a gift."

            "Okay, shoo.  Off, with you.  Ciao."

            "Someone can't wait to get rid of me.  I bet there's a man in the closet," Dane said, but grabbed his coat and left nevertheless.

            By the time he had come back with the movies, the pizza had arrived and was open, and Rory was curled up on the couch with a slice in her hand.  She stood up when she saw him.

            "Well thanks for waiting for me."

            "It was calling out to me.  I didn't want to hurt its feelings.  And besides, it was getting cold."

            "What about hurting my feelings?" Dane pouted.

            Rory swallowed the last bite of pizza, and grabbed the front of the sweatshirt he wore.  She practically pounced on him, pushing him down onto the sofa and letting her lips graze his forehead, his nose, his cheek, before kissing him.  Immediately, Dane's arms went tightly around her, and she let her fingers play with his too-long dark hair.  When they came up for a breath, she wrinkled her nose.

            "You need a haircut."

            "You taste like pizza," he said, before pulling her towards him again, and kissing her.  He deftly flipped her over so that she was no longer in control and deepened the kiss, letting their tongues duel.  Pulling away only to rain kisses on her neck and chin, Dane heard her moan.

            "But…but I like to be on top," she said breathlessly.

            Dane was too busy with her neck to respond.  Slowly, his mouth descended lower and he began to unzip her sweater.  Underneath, she wasn't wearing anything.  Smiling against her skin, he made a trail back up to her mouth and-

            The phone rang.  Rory sat up straight, and Dane tumbled off of her.

            "Ow," he said.  "That was a bit of a mood-spoiler."

            "Sorry," Rory said guiltily, and dove for the source of the Jingle Bells.  "Hello?"

            "Well you sound out of breath.  I bet I interrupted something," said Lorelai.

            "Hey, Mom.  Bad time.  Bye."

            "Not so fast, my darling child.  Put Dane on."

            "He is _not_ over here."

            "Yes, he is."

            "No, he's not."

            "Either he is, or you're cheating on him."

            "Fine.  Here," she said, giving the phone to Dane, and listening to his part of the conversation.

            "Hello?  Oh, hi Ms. Gilmore.  Sorry.  Hi, Lorelai.  Yeah.  No.  Yes.  Yes.  Sorry, can't help you there.  Well, I can dance.  Not very well, though. Okay."  He handed the phone back to Rory.  

            "What did you ask him, mom?"

            "Oh, nothing…"

            "Mo-om!"  
            "Whenever did I raise such a whiny daughter.  Suck it up, oh product of my uterus."

            "That's even worse than fruit of your loom."

            "Well, I thought I was getting predictable."

            "Anyway, why are you calling?"

            "I suppose my mom has called you about the so-called surprise birthday party?"

            "Yeah."

            "Sorry, babe.  I did my best.  But she pulled the guilt card out- you know, how she hasn't thrown you any parties for a while and she misses you and is just trying to do something nice for an important birthday."

            "It's alright.  It'll be nice to see some of my high school classmates."

            "Humph."

            "Mom?"

            "You're too nice.  It must be painful. Stop that.  And don't worry, we're having an after-party at our house.  All the cool people will be there.  We can even hire male strippers.  I was going to save a bunch and get your hunk of burning love over there to be our stripper, but he doesn't have a costume.  But I did extract a promise from him that he would be there, and at Christmas dinner."

            "Wow, mom.  That's skill.  Oh, guess who got a promotion today!"

            "Congratulations, honey.  That's wonderful news!"

            "Alright, I've got to go now."

"Okay, okay, get back to the groping."  

            "There was no groping."

            "Bye, honey."

            "Bye, Mom," Rory said, hanging up and turning to Dane.  

            "Now, where were we?"


	2. Televised Breakups and Proud Grandparent

                                                Chapter Two: Televised Breakups and Proud Grandparents

**Chapter Summary: **Rory and Dane attend her twenty-third birthday party, where she meets a group of girls from her high school after seeing her mother again.  Tristan, with a new girlfriend (Milica, prounounced Mee-lee-t-sa) sees her and we realize that he has changed quite a bit, but still has a 'thing' for Rory.  Milica breaks up with Tristan in plain view.  Tristan and Rory meet - it's a very formal meeting, but Dane still has his suspicions.  Tristan leaves right after, and Rory and Dane soon follow, but Rory is waylaid when she says goodbye to her grandmother, who's friends talk to her for a few minutes.

**A/N:** The group of Chilton girls is just the names of the ex-girlfriends in 'Run Away Little Boy'.  I forget to mention that in this version of the story, Paris gets into Harvard and goes there as well, because she totally deserved to.  And Lane should be in this chapter, but I can't think of anything…so let's just say she couldn't make it.  I don't feel like going into the details of the Stars Hollow party, so this is where your lovely imaginations come in…****

**P.S. **I decided to put Chapters 2 & 3 Together, under the title of Televised Breakups and Proud Grandparents, because they seem to go.  Yeah, I'll constantly be putting my chapters together, because I like them 3000ish words, but I have short bursts of 1500 word creativity, and just post it anyway.

            Rory took a deep breath and straightened her dress.  Then she turned to Dane and nervously dusted off his suit.

            "Rory, I think I'm clean enough," he said, but his eyes were serious.  "If you don't want to go in, we can just leave."

            "No, Grandma's probably already seen me through the window.  And besides, you just don't want to see my grandparents again."

            Dane held his hands up.  "Guilty.  Ring the doorbell."

            "I hate suprises.  I really do.  Alright, I love surprise.  They're fun, but this isn't a surprise- not anymore.  And plus, I don't want to make small talk for the next seven hours.  I want to go home and play Monopoly with my mommy."

            "Your mommy is already here."

            "Dammit," Rory said, and rang the doorbell.

            It had been a week since Rory's promotion and the glow of having her own office had still not quite worn off.  It was however being somewhat diminished by having to leave that very office and drive to Hartford.  The drive itself had been nice, spent in a comfortable silence, a chugging contest at one point, and some talking.  They had stopped at every rest stop they could find and bought souvenirs, so Rory had enough for almost a third suitcase.

            The maid opened the door.

            "Mrs. Gilmore is waiting for you in the study.  May I take your coats?"

            "Sure! Thank you…uh…ummm…Marie?"

            "Maria."

            "Right! Sorry!" Rory said.

            Dane smiled at her as she nervously handed the coat to the maid, and he did likewise.  He wrapped his arm around her waist.  

            "Ready?"

            "Yep," she said quietly.  "One hour.  Two at the most."

            "You might have fun?"  
            "I highly doubt that."

            "Good.  Let's make a quick getaway now."

            "We're already in the house."

            "So?"

            "C'mon," Rory said, rolling her eyes and they walked together to the study.  Emily was the only one there.

            "Rory, dear, you look wonderful.  Hello Dane."

            "Wow, I heard the like level drop, no plunge just now," Dane muttered.

            Rory elbowed him.  "Yes, Grandma.  Am I early?"

            "No, everyone's in the living room.  Act surprised.  Oooh, surprise parties are so much fun," Emily said, leading Rory out of the study and to her party.

****************************************

            He knew that he would see her there.  In fact, he came knowing he would see her there.  It was her party, after all.  

It had been seven years, and they had been good to Tristan DuGrey.  The boyish good looks that were the trademark of his family were still there, but now he moved with the cat-like grace of a man that was very aware of his surroundings.  If ever he was awkward, it was when he was sixteen and near Rory Gilmore, but now he was older, less reckless, a practiced seducer.  He glanced at Milica, who smiled appreciatively up at him.  When everyone yelled surprise and leaped out of their hiding places, he slowly rose with the air of someone being led to the guillotine.

            There was a man with his arm tightly wrapped around Rory- too tight to be a friend, and he didn't think she had any siblings.  At first glance, Tristan thought the man to be Dean.  _Dean_, he thought bitterly, remembering Rory's first boyfriend.  However, this new man resembled him little.  His too-long hair was as rumpled as the suit he was wearing and he was a little taller than Rory, a few inches shorter than Tristan.  He was thin, but extremely handsome, with dark eyes and hair that contrasted with his rather pale skin.   Tristan was instantly jealous.  

            "Who's that with her?" asked Milica.  She giggled.  "He's very sexy. He's like a dream - tall, dark, and handsome."

            "He's hardly tall," Tristan retorted.

            "But he's oh so dark and handsome."

            "Humph," Tristan replied, filled with an anger that he couldn't place until he looked at Rory.  She was still beautiful.  More beautiful, if that was possible. Looking at her made her hate the man even more.  She was no longer the innocent that she once was.  In her eyes he could see that she had known a man, and enjoyed it.  He should have been the one to put that look into her eyes!  Tristan clenched his fingers until they turned white.  He did not know why he cared this much, but this time he knew she did not love him, and was not going to set himself up for rejection yet again.  He was not the boy he was in high school- not so stupid, nor so open.

            _He's not my boyfriend.  I hate him._

He sighed and wrapped his arm around Milica, pulling her abruptly against his side.  She giggled once more and he braced himself for the encounter with Rory that was sure to come.  For all he knew, she could be completely different now; someone who grated on his nerves and couldn't stand the presence of.  He was assuming that she hadn't changed in seven years, while he had so much.  It was unfair of him.  In fact, it was downright maudlin of him, to be stuck in the past so much.  The past was for history textbooks and old men with war stories to tell, or friends reminiscing about the good old days.  It wasn't for a still vibrant and healthy man like him.

            "How did you say you knew this girl again?" asked Milica.

            "We went to the same high school."

            "Were you guys dating or something?"

            "No…not my type."

            "Well, from the way you were just looking at her."

            "I was thinking."

            "Oh, okay.  About what?"

            He smiled sarcastically.  "The good old days."

_Look, things are really good for me and Dean right now, and I don't want anything to mess that up. Especially not something that meant nothing at all to me and I wished had never happened in the first place.****_

*************************************************

            Rory smiled grimly down at the drink she held in her hand.  It was only a Coke, but it was times like these that her resolve to not consume alcohol was tested.  Dane, who had no such qualms, was liberally lacing his own soft drink with brandy.

            "You want some?" he asked.

            She gave him a look.  "Thanks, but no thanks."

            Just then, her grandmother came by.  "Rory, Lorelai is looking for you."

"Where is she?"

            "She just got here…" Rory didn't wait around to see what else her grandmother had to say, instead yanking Dane's arm so he spilled quite a bit of his drink on himself and rushed off, leaving him bewildered.  He set his drink down, and slowly made his way through the crowd, pausing to attempt to smooth down his hair so he could make a good impression.  As Lorelai was walking into the living room, she was ambushed by a smaller version of herself that threw her arms around her.

            "Mini-me!"

            "Mommy!! You're late!! You're late!!"

            Lorelai paused dramatically.  "Rory.  Something happened."

            "What?" Rory asked, pulling back.

            "I couldn't find those really sexy black shoes, you know, the strappy painful ones."

            "Whom do you have to be sexy for?" she asked, jokingly.

            "Your boy-toy, of course.  As soon as he catches sight of me…." The elder Gilmore made an appreciative whistle.  "Is he one of them?"  she asked, and Rory followed her line of vision until she saw a group of ex-Chiltonites, all looking very blue-blooded and very bored.  She recognized a few, but none had been her friends when she had attended the school.    
            "Naw.  He's coming."  At that point, Dane entered the room and crossed over to the two brunettes.

            "Mama Gilmore," he nodded formally.

            "So this is the Dane you've been hiding.  I'm Lorelai," she said, addressing the man.

            "It's a pleasure," he said, taking Lorelai's hand to his lips.

            "Well, aren't you a charmer."

            "Rory certainly thinks so…"

            "I don't need to know about the dirty." she said, her eyes teasing.

            "Mo-om!"

            "Yeah, bad images.  I feel your pain, honey.  Stay away from the balcony."

            "Lorelai, you were supposed to be here almost an hour ago.  I told you seven o' clock sharp, and it is seven-fifty now.  Why come at all?  You missed the surprise, anyways," said Emily, who had just approached.

            "Mom, there was no surprise to begin with."

            "Honestly, Lorelai…you have to learn to be more prompt."

            "I need a drink," Lorelai muttered, and escaped, giving Rory and Dane an apologetic look.

            "The balcony?" Dane asked with a half-smile.

            "The place of my conception…" Rory whispered

            "Enough said," he replied, also under his breath.

            "Rory, you must meet your guests.  Some people came all the way from Michigan to attend this party.  You should be a good host.  There's even people you haven't seen since high school!  Come on," Emily said.

            "With good reason," Rory told Dane, and followed her grandmother.  Dane shrugged and told her that he would use the bathroom and be right back.

            Emily went to a group of women in impeccable designer clothes that spoke of good taste and breeding.  As the women turned to face her, Rory realized that they were all her classmates from Chilton.  Ah, high school, something that she would rather not have remembered.  

            "I'll just leave you to mingle and get reacquainted," Emily said.

            After a brief, awkward silence, Rory spoke.  "Well, hello."

            "Who is that?" one of the girls asked another.

            "I think that's the girl who the party is for."

            "Oh, okay."

            "Hi, I'm Rory," she said, quietly.  "I went to Chilton."

            "Rory?  I remember you…you were the valedictorian.  I'm Kate, this is Beth and Jessica, and uh, Claire, Kathy, Summer."  The only one Rory remembered was Summer, but just as she was about to continue the pleasantries, a blonde girl and a girl with dark hair joined the group.

            "I finally have a drink.  Thank god…I don't think I can take anymore of- Rory?"

            "Louise…Madeline.  Hi."

            "Well, I see you haven't changed," Louise said.

            "I like your dress," Madeline said, 

            "Well, uh, Paris is here somewhere, if you want to go find her," Louise continued.

            "Yeah…I think I'll do just that," Rory said, grateful to be able to escape.  Unfortunately, Dane returned from the bathroom at exactly that moment, and delayed the escape.  

            "Sorry, Rory…this house is huge…couldn't find the- Hello," Dane said, just realizing that Rory was talking to someone, or rather some women who apparently found him fascinating.

            "Tell us, Rory, who is this?" Louise asked.

            "He's cute," Madeline giggled.

            "I'm Louise," said the blonde girl, extending her hand to Dane.  Dane kissed it, lightly and Rory elbowed him.

            "I'm going to go find, uh, Paris now.  It was nice seeing all of you again," she said, pulling Dane away with her.

            "Don't flirt in front of your girlfriend," Rory said to Dane as they were walking away.

            "There was no flirting there…the girl gave me her hand and I did what all the guys in the movies do.  I was even going to say how charmed I was, and all that, but you didn't gimme' the chance.  Now who are we going to find?"

            "Paris.  Roommate at Harvard."

            "Ahhh."  They walked in comfortable silence.  When they reached the door of the room, Rory surveyed it, looking for a familiar blonde head.  Instead of the one she was looking for, she caught side of a light blonde head, full of tousled locks.  _Tristan?_, she thought to herself, surprised.  _Is that really him?_  

            "What's a matter?" Dane asked, surprised that Rory had stopped in her tracks.

            "Oh, nothing.  I just saw someone I once knew," she said, wondering if he would remember her or recognize her.  Ah, well, she'd just avoid the man until this dreaded party was over- he didn't have a good history with her boyfriends.  Unconsciously, she smoothed her hair down and patted her dress.  

*************************************************

It seemed to him that a certain member of the Gilmore clan was avoiding him.  Of course, he didn't seem to have that problem with a few flirtatious women, who slipped him their numbers obviously although their husbands were right next to them.  They completely ignored Milica, who was a beauty in her own right and not used to being overlooked.

            "Let's go," she now whined, pursing her lips.

            "We didn't even get to say happy birthday, though," Tristan answered.

            "She won't even notice…there's hordes of people here."  He realized she was right, so he said nothing.  "Tristan, there could be so much more fun we could be having," Milica said suggestively, taking his hand in her smaller one.

            "It's really rude to not at least _talk_ to the host of the party," he said, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

            She turned to him, her look speculating.  "My, my, my, when did resident bad boy DuGrey become so concerned about manners?"

            "My, my, my, when did you become so annoying?" he retorted and she frowned.

            "Tristan.  I don't think this is working, with me and you," Milica began.

            "Not now.  Let's talk about this later."

            "I want to talk about it _now_!" Milica said loudly, drawing glances from those around them.

            "Milica…"

            "No, stop it, Tristan.  Lemme' talk!  When we started going out-"

            "Two days ago," he supplied.

            "Yeah- when we started going out, you were fun and I liked hanging out with you, but now you're just too boring.  I'm sick of it Tristan.  I'm sorry, but it's over.  Goodbye.  

            "You want a ride home, then?" he asked, tiredly.

"No.  I'll call a taxi,"she said, pulling out her cell phone.  By that time, most of the people surrounding them were openly watching them and Tristan smirked.

            "I've been dissed and dismissed in my doddering old age," he told a lady of Emily's age and she looked away, as if she hadn't been staring like the rest of the crowd.  One of those staring was standing several feet away, holding a napkin with only crumbs on it and a wine glass.  

            "Rory," the man said, "You can't miss this.  A playgirl type just dumped some rich prep boy.  It's good television."

            "It's not television," Rory retorted, but swung around to look anyway.

            "The only thing that's missing are the incessant commercial gimmicks and the black border."  He didn't notice that Rory was watching the man who stood in the center of the room intently.  

            "I remember him."  
            "You do?" Dane asked, surprised.  Rory had known downwards of ten people at the party so far.

            "Yeah.  Went to high school with him."

            "Was he always so…"

            "Yeah," Rory said, and then felt the need to defend him.  "But he's nice sometimes.  When his façade cracks."

            "Get a hammer," Dane said, "because he's walking over here."

            Rory glanced at Tristan again, and this time she found that he was watching her.  Unsettled, she averted her gaze, looking at Dane.  He approached slowly, and she couldn't help but think that certain doom waiting her, and in a way, it was.  Conscious of Dane sizing up Tristan, she laid a hand on his arm and he looked at her, his eyes softening.  He put his arm around her waist and she relaxed into his grip as Tristan stopped in front of them.

            "Happy Birthday," Tristan said, very aware that the man had his arm around Rory.

            "Thank you."

            "How are you, Rory?" he asked, formally.

            "Fine, thank you.  And you?  I haven't seen you in a very long time."

            "Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.  "What is it, six years?"

            "Seven."

            "Glad to see you've been keeping count," he said and Dane coughed, uncomfortable with the flirting.

            "This is my, uh, boyfriend, Dane.  Dane, this is Tristan.  I went to high school with him."

            "Until I got shipped off to military school," Tristan said.

            "Oh, really," Dane said, almost casually, but Rory could feel his grip tightening on her waist, possessively.  "Why'd you get sent there?"

            "Dane!" Rory said, shocked at his rudeness.

            "What?  I'm just curious."

            "I broke into a safe."

            "Aren't you too rich to be a thief?"  
            Rory intervened quickly, elbowing Dane in the side.  "So, Tristan.  What are you up to these days?"

            "Well, I dabble in a bit of everything," he said, noncommittally.  "Almost done with business school.  I did a six year program, so I graduate in about six months."

            "Where do you go to?  In fact, where did you go since you left Chilton?"

            "Military school in North Carolina, some prep school in New York, then Stanford School of Business.  What about you?  You ever go to Harvard?"

            "Yeah.  Degree in journalism.  I work at the Boston Globe now."

            "You're twenty-three…did you graduate this summer?"

            "No, last summer.  I did my masters too."

            "Wow.  No partying for you, huh, Mary?"

            "Mary?" Dane asked.  

            "Uhh.  Nickname," Rory said, blushing.  Dane didn't look convinced, but he didn't say anything.  

            "Do you always fall for guys with those four letters in their names?" Tristan asked, trying to break the awkward silence that ensued.  It had been a slip of tongue to call her Mary, one he regretted.  "I would have a better chance if I changed my name to Enad."

            Rory smiled gratefully, but decided to not let Tristan continue with the banter, lest Dane get even more annoyed.  "You still wouldn't have a chance."

            "After all of those years of pining for you?  This is how you treat me?" he asked, inwardly flinching at his own words.

She laughed.  "Somehow you never struck me as the pining type."

"Yeah, you don't strike me as that either," Dane put in, looking warily between the two.

            Tristan let out a polite laugh.  "Well, I should go now.  Jet lag and all.  Got to sleep it off.  It was nice seeing you again Rory, and nice to meet you, Dane."

            "Yes, it was.  If you're ever in Boston, give me a call.  We can talk and catch up," Rory answered.

            "Bye," Dane said, shaking Tristan's hand, but Rory gave him a hug.  Surprised as he was, he uncomfortably put his arms loosely around her, noticing Dane's irritated glare.  She was still close enough that he could smell her shampoo, something fruity and fresh that made him extremely hungry.  Not for food, either.  For Rory.  He shrugged off the feeling, and headed out of the room, towards the door, his car, and his (rarely) empty bed.

            "Ex-boyfriend?" Dane asked, watching the man walk out.

            "Naw.  He actually made my life a living hell back in high school."

            "Yeah?" Dane said, his tone regaining some of its former lightness.

            "Yeah.  It was just politeness.  We used to not be able to stand each other."

            "Oh, okay.  Have we stayed two hours yet?"

            "I think so…let me just tell Grandma and find Mom, then we can go."

            "Noo…don't tell 'Grandma', then we'll have to stay.  Ro-ory…"

            "I can't just leave."

            "Pweety pwease, with a chewwy on towp?"

            "Grow up, Dane."

            "Huhh…fine.  I'll go find Lorelai then, while you look for the matriarch of the Gilmores."

            "Alright, then," Rory said, setting off in search for her grandmother.  She finally found Emily among a group of stiff people, the men in suits and the women in the conservative clothing favored by their generation.  

            "Grandma," Rory said softly, touching the older woman's shoulder.  She instantly turned around.    

            "Rory, dear!  Just the person I was looking for.  It's the birthday girl, everyone," Emily told the people she was talking with.

            "Grandma, Dane and I, were thinking about going home.  It really was a lovely party and I want to thank you for going through so much trouble."

            "Nonsense, Rory, it was no trouble at all.  And you surely can stay for just a few more minutes," she said, effectively cutting Rory off and introducing all of her friends to her.  Only one name jumped at Rory from the procession.  _DuGrey.  Janlan Dugrey.  Must be Tristan's grandfather._

            A kind looking woman with light blonde hair puffed out around her face smiled at her.   "So Rory, I hear you're a journalist from Emily.  Where do you work at?"

            "The Boston Globe.  I do some features, but mostly I just cover political events."

            "Oh, okay.  And do you like your work?"

            "Yes, it's very interesting.  I hope to be an overseas reporter in the future."

            "That's a noble aspiration.  Good luck with that," the woman said, but a man quickly halted Rory's escape.

            "Rory, where did you go to college?'

            "Harvard," her grandmother said proudly for her, "She graduated with distinction and honors.  Phi Beta Kappa, even.  Only the top ten percent of the class gets it.  And did you know?  She did her masters as well as her B.A.  All in three years."

            "Admirable," the man said.  "You may know my granddaughter.  She went to Chilton, but attended Princeton.  Rebecca Lariens.  She's attending Yale Law School."

            "What a coincidence," another man cut in.  "Darwin is attending the Yale Business School."

            "Wow, that's very difficult to get accepted into.  It's one of the best business programs, I hear, along with Stanford and Harvard, right?"

            "Yes, that's correct."

            Another voice chorused in.  "Tristan, my grandson, is attending Stanford for business school."

            "Yes, I was just speaking with him," Rory said, studying the man.  The boyish good looks Tristan possessed obviously ran in the family.  Despite having become less fit over the years, and a generous sprinkling of gray in his hair, Janlan looked as vital as ever.  Where Tristan was smirks and leers, however, this man was aristocratic and dripped of old money.

            "Oh, you know Tristan?" Emily said.

            "Yes, Grandma, he went to Chilton."

            "Oh, lovely.  Janlan, why don't you and your wife come over with Tristan and Charles and Jocelyn for Christmas dinner.  It'll give Rory and Tristan a chance to talk, and you haven't had dinner with us for quite a while."

            "Well, that sounds wonderful," Janlan said.

            "Grandma," Rory protested, but was unheard.  She sighed.  "I really have to go.  Thank you again for the party and good night."  This time Emily hugged her goodbye, saying how wonderful the party was and she would see Rory on Christmas day.  Rory then went looking for her grandfather, in order to say goodbye.  She found him, talking 'shop' or so to speak with some colleagues.

            "Grandpa, Dane and I are going to leave now."

            "Is he that photographer of yours?  I saw him when you walked in.  Honestly, give that boy a comb."

"Grandpa."

"Well, all right, Rory.  I suppose I'll see you on Christmas, then?"

"Yes, Grandpa.  Bye."

"Bye, Rory." When she finally walked outside of the stifling mansion, Lorelai and Dane pounced on her.

"What took you so long?" Lorelai asked, while at the same time Dane asked,   
"Where have you been?"

"I got stuck talking to Grandma's friends."  
            "Well, thank god you're out of the Tower over there.  Now it's time to get the real party started!! You know, this kind of reminds me of your sixteenth birthday.  Déjà vu," Lorelai gushed.

"How much sugar did you eat?"

"Enough, dear child, enough."

"Okay, so Rory and I will take my car, and we'll just follow you, Lorelai," Dane said.

"Yep."

"Wait, are you too drunk to drive?" Rory asked.

"No, I'm not even tipsy yet," her ever responsible mother answered.

"Okay, then, we'll see you when we get there."

"Yeah, bye.  Don't do anything-"

"-that you wouldn't do.  Bye, mom," Rory said, and they climbed into their respective cars to head up to the Stars Hollow version of a fitting twenty-third birthday party- or in less words, the real party.


	3. Presents with Little Time Left

**                                                                                    Presents with Little Time Left**

**A/N:** The t-shirt is real, and you can get one from Onion.com, the funniest site in the world (and I'm not paid to say that, either).  I stole the brawn and brains thing from the AT&T Commercial.  This whole story is just me stealing lines.  Bad me, I should be original.  And, I should warn you that in a few chapters, there may be some stuff that kids shouldn't be reading, so I'll warn you!

Oh, one more thing.  I've decided to shorten the chapters, so I can actually get them up, and I'll probably omit the chapter summary and a/n in the rest of the chapters, because I'm just too lazy.  Oh, well, no one reads them anyway!

            Lorelai loved Christmas.  More than that, she loved Christmas mornings, when the snow was smooth and unmarred by people's intruding footsteps, and was falling gently still as the sun rose quietly in the morning sky.  All right, she loved the presents, too, but there was just something about waking up early on Christmas morning and sitting on the porch with a steaming cup of coffee in your hands.  She didn't have to set an alarm to wake up, her biological clock was already quite aware of what day it was.  

            She had attempted to tiptoe, but gave up after a loud creak from the aging stairs, and her footsteps made soft thumps on the floorboards.  She glanced guiltily at the couch where Dane had spent the night, but the guilt was soon replaced by surprise when she saw that the blankets were folded neatly on the couch and there was no dark-haired man there.  

            "Hmmm…" she said, and walked to the kitchen, no longer making an effort to be quiet.  Dane was sitting at the table, looking lost, with a half-eaten pop tart hanging from his mouth.  He wore shorts and a baggy t-shirt that read 'The sports team from my area is superior to the sports team from your area'.  

            "Good morning!" Lorelai sang out, and Dane groaned, but greeted her and wished her a merry Christmas.  "Merry Christmas to you too.  Nice t-shirt, but what's with the Weezer frames?" she asked, gesturing to his glasses.

            "Oh, I usually wear contacts.  Want a pop tart?  I was going to make eggnog, but there wasn't any nog," he said, grinning.

            "Yes, coffee would be lovely."

            "Ahh.  I'll make some."

            "Brawn _and_ brains.  It's okay, I'll do it."

            "Yeah, I don't know how to make coffee anyways."

            "Humph," said Lorelai as she pulled the coffee maker out of the cupboard.  "Essential life skill left unlearned.  Will have to factor that into the pro/con list."

            "There's a pro/con list?"

            "No, but I'm currently debating the pros and cons of starting one." He chuckled, then groaned again.  

            "Ok, no laughing.  Lesson learned," he said miserably.

            "Hangover?"

            "Yeah."

            "Sookie's eggnog?"  
            "Yeah."

            "Have some coffee…once it's made, that is."  Lorelai left the kitchen, and grabbed her coat.  Dane followed her, curious.

            "Whatchya' doing?"  
            "Going outside.  You're welcome to join me."

            "Now? It's freezing outside…and it's still snowing."

            "Thus the basis of its appeal," she leaned closer, as if to confide in him, and he leaned as well.  "Magical things happen when it snows," she whispered and he grinned.

            "That's okay, Lorelai, go enjoy the magic on your own.  I'll watch the coffee and make sure it doesn't bubble over or something.  I'd prefer not to freeze my ass off."

            "It can't bubble over.  Ah, well.  Your loss."

            "That it is," he said gallantly and made a beeline for Rory's room, which was most definitely _not_ the kitchen.

            "Morning!" he bellowed, letting himself in.  Then, he winced at the loudness of his own voice.  "It hurts to talk."

            "Then why are you yelling?  Do you enjoy inflicting evil awakedness onto me" came a muffled reply.

            "Evil awakedness set aside, it's already six-thirty."

            "How do you expect me to be beautiful when I've only had four hours of sleep."

            "Well, I'm beautiful and I only had three."

            "Yes, but you're effortlessly beautiful.  Me, takes work," she said, but turned over onto her back.

            "C'mon, sleepyhead.  It's Christmas," he said, then when she didn't budge, he walked over to her.  Her eyes were still closed, and he slipped in next to her and kissed her.

            She started, and opened her eyes.

            "You have really bad breath in the mornings," he said wryly.

            "Well, you have a freckled tongue," she retorted, and he shrugged.  

            "Takes one to know one," he replied.

            "I know you are, but what am I?"

            "You are- getting up."

            "Five more minutes."

            "You're practically awake, anyway."  
            "That's because you had to come in her, all trigger-happy and loud and disturb me."

            "Well, the damage is already done, so there's no point in letting you sleep now."

            "Mmm…is it snowing?"

            "Yeah…your mom is outside, something about bunnies and hats"

            "It's Christmas," Rory muttered.  "Merry Christmas! PRESENTS!!!" she remembered gleefully, and sat up.

            "I'm hurt," Dane said.  "You wake up for the presents, but not for me?" 

(A/N: I really wanted to put "You wake up for the presents, but not for THE CHAD", and then I realized how fitting it was, considering this story includes the gorgeous CMM.  Ah, well, my Charlie's Angel's rip will have to be used another time…look out for it in later chapters …hehe)  
            

            "Now you're getting it," Rory said.  At that point, Lorelai walked into Rory's room.  She proceeded to cover her eyes and make loud, grossed out noises.

            "Mo-om."

            "Ach, with the whining again," her mother replied, in a very Old Country kind of voice.

            "Heh.  Your presents have just self-destructed because of your very pathetic reprimand."

            "But I rigged your presents to self-destruct when mine did, so now you don't have any either."

            "What forethought!" Dane said.

            "It doesn't hurt to be careful," Lorelai said, her eyes twinkling.

            "It hurts the presents," the younger Lorelai said.

            "And when I don't get my presents, I hurt others.  Namely those who rigged my presents in the first place."

            "What if the person who rigged your presents set up someone, say your poor innocent daughter?"

            "Okay, this is getting too abstract for me.  And to the best of my knowledge, the presents are all sitting on the floor in front of that little tree you guys drew," Dane said.

            "Don't rag on my tree," Lorelai said.

            "Your tree?? I drew the trunk, the branches and the leaves, and the decorations."

            "Yeah, but I drew the little star on the top.  Everyone knows that makes the tree mine."

            "Much as I hate to break up this catfight, you are missing the point.  Christmas, despite its obsolete religious significance since everyone American celebrates it and evil corporations have decided to use it to their equally evil purposes and I actually saw a greeting card that said 'Merry Christmas, although you aren't Christian, it's the spirit that counts'--"

            "Remind me what the point is again," Rory interrupted.

            "PRESENTS!!!"

            "I like this one, Rory.  He's just materialistic enough to fit in," Lorelai quipped, but left the room, with Dane and Rory close behind her.  

            By the time that all the presents were opened, hugs exchanged, sappy cards read out loud, and wrapping paper shoved under the couch, all three were starving.  Although Dane was somewhat reluctant to leave the house, because that morning had been so completely_ his _and Rory and Lorelai's of course, unlike the past few days.  

He really couldn't understand Rory's attachment to the tiny town she had grown up in.  Wasn't there small-town syndrome or something, you know when everyone just wanted to get out and never look back?  Well apparently, Rory was very immune to this, and Dane was distinctly uneasy with the way everyone knew everyone's business, and not feeling very tolerant of the town's eccentricity.  He was a very private person, and the whole place was a bunch of hee-hawing hicks in the middle of Connecticut, after all.  But even if he didn't know it himself, he was a bit jealous.  This was Rory in _her_ element, the baby girl of the archaic townsfolk, and he was very excluded, although she had introduced him happily to everyone. 

            No one really was to blame, he thought with a sigh.  The faster they got back to Boston, the better.  He really didn't know how much longer he could take the intense dislike heaped on him by Rory's grandparents, coupled with the stupid town.  Nevertheless, he followed the two Gilmores out the door as they clamored to go to Luke's.

Hehe, trying to show a few faults with Dane.  He couldn't be the perfect boyfriend, or he'd get on my nerves. =)  Thanks for the reviews, and I'm surprised, I really do write faster when I get them.  I have most of the next chapter written, so it should be up in the next few days (but faster if I get lots of reviews).


	4. Reader Discretion Advised

Howdy all!  An,…ahem, interesting chapter here.  Warning: Not for kid's….this chapter's basically a short filler, nothing really happens, so you can just skip it if you don't like nc-17 stuff.  You have been warned!!!

(Yeah, like I said, no plot action, here.  Oh, and this is before the dinner at Rory's grandparents' house.)

Rory was strolling down a pathway in her grandparents' garden.  The garden itself was an elaborate affair, but she had to admit, beautiful.  The immaculately groomed trees whispered in an affable wind and the air was slightly perfumed from the scent of the flowers.  She felt rather intoxicated by the atmosphere, and perhaps this was the reason she stumbled over her own feet and hit the ground, rolling a little way.

She came to a stop a few feet away, wincing at the feel of the pavement.  Luckily, she had not scraped or skinned anything, but the appeal of her surroundings was already gone by the time she heard the low laughter coming from nearby.  She raised her eyes to a pair of white tennis shoes, with green laces, she noted absently, and clenched her teeth.  

"Well, hello, Rory.  Didn't have to be in such a rush to see lil' ole me, you know," Tristan said, grinning down at her though her current position was extremely funny.

"That was terrible.  You get worse and worse as you approach senility," Rory returned, voice dry.

His grin didn't falter.  "Not all of us can be as eternally five as you," he said, not missing a beat, but extending his hand.  "Here.  Get up."

Rory eyed his hand suspiciously, then grinned, grabbing his hand.  She pulled down and rolled over at the same time, so she straddled him. 

           "Well, you could've just asked," Tristan said as he smiled from beneath her.

           "I bet you're just loving it," Rory replied, bringing her lips a mere inch from his. He smirked at her, before reaching up to capture them, but she suddenly pulled away.

           "Rory?" 

Rory creased her forehead and he looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Rory?" he repeated, reaching up a hand to her cheek.

           She sighed, bringing up her own hand to cover his, before kissing it once and rolling over onto her back next to him. 

           Tristan gazed at her. She was lying there comfortably, brown hair spread around her face, giving her an even more innocent look. Her eyes were staring up at the sky blankly, unseeing. He longed to pull a stray piece of hair off her face that had unintentionally fallen onto it. Instead, he kept his hand at bay. 

           He had decided that she would be the death of him.

           She was so pure, just lying there like some divine being. She was just so incredibly - _perfect_. Something he could never be. He propped himself up on one elbow and stared at her. Her eyes closed for a moment before turning her head to face him.

She stared at him, blue eyes penetrating. There was something about them that was just - enrapturing.  '_You're going soft, Dugrey' _he thought wryly to himself, and chuckled.

"Hmm?" she asked softly, and placed her head on his chest, looking into his eyes.

           He stiffened slightly at the contact. But then Rory pulled him closer and buried her head into his shoulder. He could feel her breathe on the nape of his neck.

           He should learn to do the same thing.  Breathe.

           Tristan swallowed and moved his hands so that they encircled the small of her back. He felt her settle in more comfortably, resting her legs on either side of him. If she kneeled, she would be straddling him.  He would have smirked at her, made some comment, if he didn't feel like such a fucking schoolboy.  Besides, she definitely wasn't acting like the Mary he knew, but why not just enjoy a good thing?

           She exhaled slowly before raising her head off his chest to look at him. Her hair fell gently in soft waves to tickle his chin. Blue eyes stared at him.  She was a bit heady, from the power she had over him.  All Tristan knew was that he was drowning in opaque pools of cloudless sky.

Whatever thoughts he had quickly escaped him, whatever he wanted to say, abandoned his vocal cords, when she leaned closer and kissed him.

           Her mouth slid gently over his, a light pressure on his mouth, just testing him. He returned her kiss gingerly, not rushing her into something too quickly. 

           _'Something? Just what is this something, really? What am I doing?'_

           Rory placed her hands on the side of his face to cup his cheeks. Tristan's hold on the small of her back tightened, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her shirt roughly. Rory arched her back when her hips unwittingly rubbed across Tristan's. 

           Tristan pulled away, his breathing steadily increased as Rory stared down at him for a moment. Dipping her head, she brought her lips down to meet his jawbone, trailing a line of small, lingering kisses down his neck. Tristan gasped when her teeth grazed the hollow of his neck. 

           He saw her smile against him. She was bloody well enjoying this.  And yet, he was very confused.  At their last meeting, she had been wrapped up in the arms of that short, dark…roach, and had done her best to avoid talking to him.  Hmm, if he thought about it too much, he would miss what was happening.  And Tristan was sure he didn't want to miss this.

           _'I'll have to make sure she doesn't have all the fun,'_ he thought as he roughly grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back up to him for a scorching kiss. Rory moaned against his mouth as Tristan removed one of his hands from the small of her back to cup the back of her head. Forcing her lips upon his, he wrapped his legs around her tightly and in one smooth motion, flipped her over onto her back.

           He grinned and sat up on top of her. "You don't get all the fun, I'm afraid. Unlike the roach, I'm still the man.  That means, I get to be on top.  And you get to enjoy being under me."

           Rory raised an eyebrow, smirking."Who's the roach?" she asked, tightening her grip on his legs.

            "Who'd you think?" he asked, referring to Dane, and she smiled.  "That has no relevance…and makes no sense," she said, and twisted him around so that she was above him, and sneered smugly, pinning his arms above his head with one of her slender hands.

            "I don't care, as long as you're barefoot and pregnant in my kitchen…"

            "Oh, trust me.  I'm the paycheck in this relationship," she quipped, daintily undoing the buttons of his shirt with her other hand.

Throwing the shirt away and into the distance, she shifted her grip on him so that she was holding his arms above him with both hands. She straddled his thighs with her legs, trapping him under her.

           Tristan writhed underneath her. Rory snorted. "Don't like it down there, do you, DuGrey?"

He smirked back at her.  "Shouldn't give you too much power, you've got dominatrix tendencies," he said, and then paused.  "Frankly, I like this side of you."

Rory grinned before returning her lips to his own. "I'll remember that," she said between kisses. 

           "You - do - that," Tristan breathed as Rory's grip on his hands involuntarily weakened. Taking advantage of her distraction, he shifted his arms and pushed her to the side, shifting so that his chest rested on top of hers.

           "How many times do I have to tell you that you belong under me?" he asked, pinning her down to the ground, unbuttoning her shirt in the process. 

           "Mm," Rory lamented as Tristan's mouth explored every bit of newly exposed skin across her chest. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the grass. 

           Tristan stopped for a moment. Rory raised her head to look at him. She cocked an eyebrow. Tristan was eyeing her bra curiously. Slowly, he traced his fingers over her breasts. Rory shivered.

           "This will have to go, won't it?" he asked her. Rory swallowed and gave a barely noticeable jerk of the head. "What was that?" Tristan asked, cupping her breasts with his hands. 

           Rory gave as disgruntled sigh. "Yes," she murmured, her voice barely audible. 

           "Good," Tristan said cheerfully as he flicked the catch on the bra off, removing it quickly without any toil. 

           Suddenly, Tristan found himself on the floor. Rory grinned at him from above, her hand darting to his groin before he could stop her. Tristan gave a sharp gasp.

           "My," Rory sang from atop him, watching him writhe underneath her. "This will have to go too, I suppose."

           Tristan clenched his teeth together. He would _not_ give her the satisfaction of having him ask…

           Her fingers played along the line of his pants, finally darting a finger or two down them, fondling him. Tristan breathed in sharply. "Rory..." His voice trailed off.

           "Yes?" she replied sweetly, finally taking the liberty to remove his pants.

           Tristan was silent as his breath came in shallow and waveringly. Suddenly, Rory laughed. Bending close down to his ear, she blew hot air onto his neck. "I want to hear you beg for it," she whispered.

****************************************************** 

"Jesus," Tristan gasped as he bolted upright out of bed. Throwing his damp sheets off, he stood abruptly.  "What the hell was _that_?" he asked himself aloud. "I want another one!" Widening his eyes at his own thought, he grimaced.  Making his way over to the bathroom, he stood in the tub, still clad in his boxers and turned a knob on the tiled wall.  The _extremely _cold water splashed all over him, soaking him. 

_'Merry Christmas_' he thought to himself, staring at his flushed reflection in the mirror.

  
  


Ok, so that was just a peek into Tristan's dirty, dirty mind, because I didn't know where to fit this is in the story.  Please review!! Till next time…


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